


Angel With Leather Feathers

by alyblack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Sam Winchester, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Not a Love Story, Possessive Sam, Stalking, Triggers, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, implied dean and john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyblack/pseuds/alyblack
Summary: He wanted a brother, a father and a reason to go on living. I only wanted him. He fed me, he nourished me, bathed me, soothed and cherished me; my early memories were of his face, his comfort, him. I didn’t know any warmth that wasn’t Dean’s and, honestly, I never wanted anything else.





	1. Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a happy story. It may contain triggers for some people. I'll mention at the beginning of the chapter anything that might upset the readers. This is not usually the stuff I write, but I decided to give it a try.  
> Sam is a creep in this tale; be aware.

In my story the heroes don’t get together in the end. There is no big romantic turn of events where the one that didn’t feel the same suddenly has a change of heart. The complications and the problems never go away, it doesn’t get easier and it’s not overcome by the strength of love, desire or whatever it is you want to call it.

There is no redemption for the one who loves someone he is not supposed to love. There is just a quiet and lasting suffer, it doesn’t stutter, but it doesn’t evolve either. It just kind of exists outside of time and space; in a world where it’s not okay to fall in love with your brother.

If love is even the right word to define it, I don’t really know. Sometimes I think that it may very well be; in a twisted kind of way. There is no other successful incest love story in which I can support my claims. It could be love, it could be lust, it could be a brotherly feeling so disrupted it took a completely different body. The years and years of having just one person to look at every single day, the one person to count on, to lean on, the only one around to love and be loved by.

It wasn’t healthy, normal or acceptable in any way, shape or form. I wanted him, I wanted to be his brother, his rock, his best friend and the one that would consume him until there was nothing there left. His skin would be my skin, his eyes would my eyes, his soul would merge into mine. The Winchester brothers would become a single minded, well-functioning machine. Like it was meant to be.

It wasn’t sexual until it was; it became sexual as we matured as men, as the other people, briefly passing by through our lives, suddenly made it that way. He started wanting people that weren’t me. Wanted them in a way he didn’t want me. So I adapted my wanting to fit his. I made myself want him the way he wanted them; in the hopes that someday he would want me as well.

He didn’t, of course. It took a shockingly long amount of time until I finally realized that brothers weren’t supposed to feel like that. Not having a father figure, role models or anything to balance the huge and bright influence that was Dean in my life, he took over all the parts that were meant to be played by others.

He was everything and I didn’t want to share him with anyone. Not even dad. Especially not dad. Dad got everything Dean had to offer. The blind passion to which Dean followed him made me angry; angrier and angrier as I grew up. Dad could have had anything he wanted out of Dean; everything that I wanted.

I left when I realized that I couldn’t live without having it all. Being there and having him by bits and bits that weren’t consumed by other people; random women, our father, the monsters we hunted, it was too much. It made a dark craving start pooling inside my stomach every time I looked at him.

I feared what I could do to him, to me, to us, to our broken little family and to everyone who dared to take his sight away. He was only supposed to look at me and I would’ve burnt down the world trying to get him under my skin.

It was sick. I was sick. We were raised in sickness; our father’s obsession and his lack of care shaped us into hunters and soldiers. He didn’t teach us normal, we had no idea what was and wasn’t normal. Dean’s life was as twisted in his own special way as mine. He lived everyday trying to mend the broken pieces of whatever was left of our family when mom died. He took on the burden of dad and me over his shoulders.

He wanted a brother, a father and a reason to go on living. I only wanted him. He fed me, he nourished me, bathed me, soothed and cherished me; my early memories were of his face, his comfort, him. I didn’t know any warmth that wasn’t Dean’s and, honestly, I never wanted anything else.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter of the story and when it really starts to get a pace. I picture the timeline at around Sam's high school's sophomore year.  
> There's some light unconsensual touching close to the end. Be aware.  
> Aside from that, I hope you enjoy :D

“Sam? Are you up?”

            My eyes had been closed ever since he walked into the room, stumbling on his feet and trying not to make too much noise, all while giggling like a child. Even before he stepped a foot in the room I knew where he had been. Like a movie his night played in my head. He stormed off the rental after a bad hunt with dad; the ghost of an old mechanic had gotten the best of them and dad had been hurt in the process. As usual, the fault of the misfortune of hunting fell on Dean. He wasn’t to blame, but it didn’t matter to dad. John did what John wanted.

            Just as fast as he had arrived, out he went again. Didn’t take any of his kid with him this time; too dangerous, he had said. Of course, to Dean that was like a slap in the face. Ever the soldier, he probably felt like he had let his general down. I could image him getting into the car, driving to the nearest bar and drinking himself silly. The random chick would come later. Both the booze and the woman tainting the precious body I came to worship in my mind.

“I am now, Dean. What do you want?”

            He laughed again, jumping in my bed and making the mattress shake under he added weight. This particular hotel had enough space to allow each of us a separate bed. That was not the usual, though. We were raised sharing as much space as dad’s money could afford. I could probably count on hands the amount of times I had my own bed, let alone my own room.

            Every time we slept on the same bed it was like drowning in my own desire. Dean didn’t know I wanted him, for him it was just simply practical to sleep so close. The affection he showed wasn’t a thing he thought about. It wasn’t like me who had to consider carefully every single one of my acts. Careful so I wouldn’t spill too much of the things I kept hidden inside.

            Now that he was drunk, vulnerable and holding an easygoing and relaxed smile, I could only hope it would be over soon. There was already an ugly pit inside my stomach when I thought too hard about the woman Dean had slept with. Who was this chick, was she pretty, what was about her that had attracted him? What was it like to have Dean look at you like that?

            I wanted to pin him against the bedroom wall and turn him around so I could penetrate his very essence and make sure that nobody else would take him the way I knew I could. If anyone had the right, it would be me. I was the only one that he should allow; when he came home from a hook up, smelling of beer and satisfaction, it only made it worse. The feelings trying to crawl their way out of my mind got especially nasty when I got jealous. At the back of my mind anger filled my better judgment: if he fucked them, why couldn’t he fuck me?

“I am drunk as fuck, Sammy.”

            The sigh was inevitably. Not only because: yes, obviously. The main reason why my patience was running low was because whenever Dean called me that, it would only serve to make the abysm between us all the clearer. For him it was a sweet nickname he had given me and had used for the entirety of my life, but for me it felt thick around the throat, it was the epitome of our brotherly bond. Dean said it with purity, when all I thought about was how it would sound to be called that in the middle of sex.

“No shit, Sherlock. Can I go back to sleep now?”

            Even in the dark I could see his plushy lips pout. Pictures of them red and sore and covered with my pleasure hunted my mind for a couple of instants before I was brought back to reality.

“I want to play videogames.”

“I have school tomorrow, Dean.”

“Well, blow it off!”

            It was hard to say no to him, even though with time I got better and better at it. Inconsciently it was so easy for him to deny me everything I wanted, so why should I do him any favors?

“Please go to sleep, Dean.” – I stopped for a second rethinking my words. It was a low blow. – “Dad will be pissed if you are tired for tomorrow’s hunt.”

            His body sank back into the mattress and he looked distressed. I wanted to crawl to his lap and heal he hurt look sporting in his eyes. I felt when the resistance left his body and he finally allowed himself to cozy up to the covers and the pillow we were now forced to share. I had thought he would leave my bed, he did not.

            When he was asleep I couldn’t stop myself from hugging his figure from behind, pressing harder on my embrace when I felt myself get stiff inside my pajama bottoms. It would’ve been pleasurable to have the pressure against my cock, if it hadn’t been so utterly frustrating. After a while, I let myself fall asleep.


End file.
